


Kitten Fostering and Many other Misadventures of the Winter Soldier

by QueenoftheRandomWord42



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky adopts a cat, Canon-Typical Violence, Cats, Fluff, Kitten fostering, Lost Pet, M/M, Sequel bait in the epilogue, Slow Burn, lost then found pet, meet cute, non graphic depictions of animal needs, shrinkyclinks, some 1930s typical sexism that is examined but not in depth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 14:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18368369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheRandomWord42/pseuds/QueenoftheRandomWord42
Summary: When the Winter Soldier got away from Hydra, he never expected to rediscover himself when he found a small white kitten in the snow, but when the cat goes missing, he finds himself on the wrong end of a rather feisty neighbor's bad day.From the Shrinkyclinks fic fest prompt: My cat got your cat pregnant so now I’m leaving you a bag of kibble labeled “child support” meet-cute





	Kitten Fostering and Many other Misadventures of the Winter Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> As part of the Shrinkyclinks fic fest, I wanted to give it a try, and I loved writing and adding in prompts and this fic wound up being much larger than I expected, I think the prompt got away from me.  
> I also may have several pages of deleted scenes, and a sequel to this thing planned up.
> 
> Beta Read by my talented friend Violetii @awpurpleno on tumblr

“Alright, the target’s in sight.”

“I’m in position,” The Asse--no that’s not right, Agent, yes that worked much better--Agent Barnes heard over the intercom, the Widow’s voice said reporting smoothly as if she were whispering in his ears.

“Roger, I’m in position too,” Agent Barnes muttered, crouching low, peering down the street with the scope of his rifle, a huge armored vehicle barreling down the semi-crowded street, the civilians thankfully having the sense to leap out of the way. “Ready to fire.”

“Wait for it…. Wait for it…” fellow sniper Agent Hawkeye muttered, only instead of a rife, his arrow was Notched, but the string wasn’t pulled yet, “Go!”

Bucky fired into the right front tire, while Hawkeye fired an emp arrow into the engine, the armored van stalled, and the Black Widow effortlessly pounced onto the top, crouched low to not be spotted, and the driver climbed out, first noticing the flat tire, and grumbled as he tried to head to the back to pull out the spare, thankfully the emp arrow wasn’t noticed.

The Black Widow quietly clambered down, snapped off the arrow shaft so it wouldn’t be noticed yet, and began to sneak behind the driver, her widow stings at the ready.

That was the Sold--No, he didn’t live that life anymore, and he didn’t want to slip up on his first mission as a free man--Agent Barnes rushed out of his hiding spot down to the next point, the Widow would apprehend the driver, but he was going to need to obtain the evidence while Hawkeye kept an eye out to take down any back up the driver would predictably call.

He ran past small patches of snow, avoiding stepping into them to prevent any tracks out of pure instinct when he noticed the ambush.

“Engaging in hostiles in the southeast quadrant!” He reported quietly before he pulled out his knife, ready to take on the adversaries.

He quickly used his body camera installed into his suit to take a few stills of the three hostiles before they realized they weren’t alone.

They were average young men dressed in all black tracksuits, their faces concealed in ski masks, and they were quick to pull out their guns, large heavy assault rifles.

Unfortunately, they were small minnows trying to take on a barracuda.

He dodged the first round of bullets and broke the first gun with his metal fist, concealed in a leather glove and long sleeve, which disoriented the first guy long enough for Agent Barnes to knock him out with his flesh fist, and before the second guy could stab him with a pocket knife, Agent Barnes kicked out with his foot, pulling the guy’s knees forward and causing the guy to fall on his ass and into the third guy like a domino.

Barnes placed a homing beacon on the unconscious men, tied them up in zip ties with disappointment in their life choices, and reported he was on the move, SHIELD agents would collect them in minutes.

“Driver’s apprehended,” Widow reported, “what’s the bird’s eye view Hawkeye?”

“We’ve got company coming.”

Barnes pulled out one of his guns and rushed down to engage the hostiles close combat, the van appearing around the street corner, and a second van approaching from behind the first.

The van was full of more minnows.

The As-Agent didn’t try to hurt them too badly, Fury needed information about where they got their cargo. A few non-serious stab wounds in extremities, a few punches and all were bound and gagged in short order, it was clear that these were no match for him, and it was quite disappointing.

The amateurs were dispatched of quickly, with Hawkeye sending a stun arrow at the last one, and it was so mundane the Soldier would swear after he looked back that his memory didn’t bother to remember.

Hawkeye began to interrogate the conscious prisoners while the Widow proceeded to collect physical evidence, bags full of white powder hidden underneath half rotten produce, and Agent Barnes moved to transfer data--the real reason they were here--from the computers into a special secure drive for the analysts back at SHIELD headquarters.

He finished collecting data from the last portable laptop and dropped the drive into a special bag when his instincts caught something in the corner of his eye.

The Agn-Asset pulled out his blade and turned to face the danger.

The alleyway was empty, nothing large or human was in the alleyway, just some garbage, and patches of snow.

Then a patch of snow moved.

No, it wasn’t a snow patch, patches of snow don’t squeak feebly.

“Barnes?” The Widow asked, her tone wasn’t weary, but she was a former Red Room Black Widow, so that wasn’t surprising.

Barnes slowly approached the squeaking patch of snow, the knife ready to take on any hostiles.

The Patch of Snow wiggled and a tiny pink mouth squeaked again, blue eyes peered up.

Behind him, he could hear the gait of Hawkeye behind him.

“Aww, kitten no,” Hawkeye exclaimed in empathy before Agent Barnes, with his free hand scooped the miniature domestic feline up.

It was cold to the touch, and its torso and head fit snugly in his gloved metal palm.

“She’s pretty young, Barnes, we’ll need to get her warm or she’s not going to make it,” Hawkeye warned him before Agent Barnes felt the kitten twitch. He unzipped the front of his tac-suit and placed the kitten in his undershirt, before zipping up to just below the kitten’s chin.

Body heat in this circumstance would be the most efficient way to ward off hypothermia, and with the creature’s high surface mass to volume ratio, would it’s core body temperature up to homeostasis more effectively.

The Black Widow looked up and held her poise, but Agent Barnes was sure if she were a lesser being, she’d probably coo like Hawkeye was currently doing.

“Shit, that is so cute,” Hawkeye exclaimed, and in an unprofessional manner, pulled out his phone to take pictures of the small white creature currently vibrating under Agent Barnes’ chin.

“I think we need to report to medical,” Agent Barnes reported to Hawkeye,” the tiny creature might be seizing.”

Something in Hawkeye’s eyes almost turned soft, like Agent Barnes had said something sweet and childish, which was ridiculous, Barnes had taken down about nine men without breaking a sweat, or their bones.

Barnes would say nothing about the broken or unbroken state of some of their skin...

Now the kitten’s shoulders were undulating unnaturally against his collar bone.

“Okay, we’ll report to medical, I’ll call ahead and tell Coulson we’re on our way back to the pickup point.”

“Request specialists, there might be more serious problems, this kitten might be seizing.”

Hawkeye paused, then peered closely before he pressed on his earpiece-- nonstandard it appeared to specialize for other functions as well--before he pressed his ear closer and listened before petting the creature on the head.

“Well I will admit my hearing aid might be picking up on something else, but my years dealing with the semi-feral circus cats that lived on the train tell me that that kitten is purring, and judging from those little paw movements in your shirt, she’s kneading, which means she’s warming up and trying to tell you that she is happy,” Hawkeye said. “I guess that means that I’ll have to serve as the specialist until we get her to a SHIELD veterinarian at headquarters.”

“Do you know anything about kitten fostering Barton?” The Black Widow asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll have you know, yes, yes I did, we had a queen--that’s a female cat for your information--who got run over by a train and we needed to keep her kittens alive until they could hunt the rats and mice that were trying to infest the food and animal feed of the circus. I was assigned the task and got most of them to adulthood, one of them got adopted at nine weeks of age by a circus visitor.”

Somehow, Agent Barnes found himself believing Hawkeye.

Well, maybe not the adoption story, something about that tone implied “adoption” was more like “adoption”. Like how the Asset “adopted” targets before Hawkeye’s stun arrow cognitively recalibrated him long enough for the Widow could subdue him and brought him before Coulson with a very convincing recruitment pitch.

The kitten kept vibrating and wiggling in Agent Barnes’ outfit before it began chewing on his zipper, and concerned the little creature would cut their mouth, pulled the zipper out, and it instead tried to consume his flesh index finger unsuccessfully. He could feel some tiny front teeth and fangs and not much else as it tried to suck his finger down its gullet.

“Aww, Clint, I think somebody’s hungry,” the Widow reported, with a smirk.

“We’re going to need some formula, I think he’s old enough to be weaned but better safe than sorry at this stage…”

The sucking seemed to slow to a tired rhythmic pulse by the time they obtained the formula and reported for a debriefing on the quinjet, Phil Coulson just raised an eyebrow and ordered a report.

Asse--Agent Barnes gave his report as accurate, ignoring the tiny feline mouthing his flesh finger, and standing at attention with a straight face, while Coulson surreptitiously kept glancing at Barnes’ collar.

“After the last of the hostiles were neutralized and ready for questioning, I obtained the computer data onto the requested hard drive, which has been turned over to evidence as seen here.”

It was a milk run, plain and simple, and just there to test to see how effectively Agent Barnes, The Black Widow, and Hawkeye. Agent Barnes would be proud to report that the mission was run ever so smoothly and the contraband, but more importantly the data they needed to ensure world security was in the right hands.

And Agent Barnes was self-aware enough to know that the kitten currently starting to fuss around his damp index finger, was probably outside normal proceedings, and as a test to his new boss, he found that Coulson tolerated the little guy, not that Barnes was going to risk the little guy’s life under such uncertainty.

Coulson inquired briefly about the kitten’s presence, but after being reassured it was a temporary thing, Coulson dismissed them with a lip twitch and reminded Barnes that the kitten was Barnes’ responsibility until the kitten could be sent to a more appropriate setting.

Barnes found that last statement rather redundant and unnecessarily obvious.

Then Hawkeye--Call me Clint or Barton for crying out loud!--called him over from outside the medical wing.

“Time to show you how to take care of the little guy until we get him to an appropriate foster home.”

Hawkeye lead Agent Barnes to a small corner in the medical center, where the Widow was waiting for them with a few supplies, the kitten formula, and a fuzzy fleece blanket folded up next to a small bottle.

“Thanks, Nat,” Hawkeye said, and perched himself on the seat and held out his hand for the kitten.

Barnes passed the kitten over and the kitten began to cry.

Barton proved to be very knowledgeable about kittens, as his time in the circus had proven, and Barnes learned quickly several things:

One, the kitten was a little male.

Two, the kitten really liked the formula, and according to the small incisor teeth, tiny canines, and no molars was likely about a month old and needed another week on the bottle before he could be weaned.

Three, the kitten was almost old enough to be litter box trained and was apparently really dehydrated, so Barnes found him in time.

And finally four, the kitten really really liked to sleep curled up in a box with the fleece blanket with the pine trees printed on it, which Hawkeye lent Barnes because he felt it was a “crime to wake the little guy”.

The Black Widow watched the whole lesson with an amused eye, even though Barnes had a suspicion she was recording the whole thing.

When the mission was over, Barnes took the kitten to his temporary quarters, keeping the kitten in the box with the blanket, and gave the kitten another feeding before investing in a litter box with labeling reading “kitten safe” kitten litter.

A week later the kitten switched slowly from a bottle with formula to wet canned kitten food, seeming to prefer duck and fish to chicken and beef ’n’ gravy. The kitten’s new vet was kind enough to recommend a few brands and had a few warnings for Barnes to watch out for.

At age six weeks, the kitten started getting into everything, Tactical gear, MREs, electronics, and Barnes kept all weapons and ammo as far away from the kitten as possible, including showering away any scent of gunpowder off his person. He was rewarded with a tiny white fluff ball sleeping inside his boot.

Seven weeks had the kitten playing more actively and Barnes began talking to the kitten while they played with a toy that looked like it was a fishing rod with a set of spinning feathers on it.

The kitten would leap, snatch, and stalk the toy every time Barnes messed with it, and by the end of it Barnes would give the kitten a status report of his day while the kitten curled up on to lap while Barnes would gather intel for his next mission or more ways to provide for the kitten’s next milestone.

Some times he’d try giving the kitten new alias’ to see what worked as the best call sign for the kitten.

Then, one night Barnes was pulled away from a dream, and mix of a memory of a little girl--Becky, Becky and Bucky the best big brother ever--he loved a lot who kept calling him “Bucky” before he fell from a great height into some rocks and ice, his left arm on fire, then ice and nothing.

The dream kept escalating as he got dragged leaving a trail of red snow, fuzzy terror until he was back in the vault. He had to take down the target or else it would be the painful chair that made him forget, forget Becky’s Bucky, when something gentle, warm, and raspy began to scrape along his cheek in small insistent strokes.

Bucky pried his eyes open, his breathing harsh and fast. He glanced up, and a pair of pretty yellow eyes looked back. The kitten meowed and continued to lick on his face before pulling back to start kneading motions on his flesh shoulder, butting his head against Bucky’s chin before curling up with a loud purr.

He quietly petted the kitten in the dark until his heart rate returned to normal, and when the kitten curled up on his pillow to fall back asleep, Bucky quickly wrote down the name “Becky Barnes,” knowing that he had a loose end to research on his next day off.

When kitten was eight weeks old, eating both wet and dry kitten food, favorite toy was a crinkly ball and the feathered fishing rod, an adoption form filed and a fresh microchip in his shoulder with the name “Alpine” registered to a “James Barnes” filed into the vet’s office with a record of vaccinations.

Barton never got his pine tree blanket back, and instead, Barnes--Bucky when he was off duty--gave Barton a replacement blanket instead. Alpine kept the blanket, it was his favorite source of comfort since he came under Bucky’s care.

When the lease to his temporary quarters expired, Bucky searched for another apartment that was cat friendly, and found one that was at the top end of his budget, but it was worth it to see Alpine run around rubbing his sides all over every surface with enthusiasm until the kitten fell asleep on a window sill.

Barton--Clint-- and Romanova--Natasha--were frequent visitors to the new apartment with enhanced security to ensure the safety of Barnes and Alpine when Barnes wasn’t around to protect the cat.

They also doubled as cat sitters when Barnes was on missions overseas.

Alpine was happy with his new home and his loving human, and Bucky was gratified and pleased to come home to something that eagerly greeted him when he got back every time.

Life passed in this pleasant pattern for over a year, until a call from the vet’s office about a missed appointment, and a rather upset neighbor changed everything.

***

Bucky’s phone rang the moment he stepped off the tarmac, the quinjet shutting down, and the debrief fresh in his ear and was over with minor complications.

He tapped on the Bluetooth earpiece as soon as the phone rang and ducked into an empty conference room.

“Hello, Barnes speaking.”

“Oh hello Mr. Barnes, this is Fur Babies Animal Hospital, we were going over Alpine Barnes’ records and we realized that about six months ago you missed an appointment to get him neutered, do you still want to get him sterilized?”

Bucky blinked and then felt his stomach drop.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that, I had a work emergency and forgot to reschedule, that would be fantastic, when can I pencil you in?”

“Of course, how does Thursday at 3:00 pm sound?”

“That’s perfect, I’ll see you then.”

Bucky hung up, it was another thing he forgot.

Bucky had been coming to grips with his memory problems, which yeah he did forget about getting Alpine fixed because some terrorist tried to blow up some important politicians and would have sparked an all-out war. In the grand scheme of things, that counted as a work emergency.

Most of the time he forgot minor things which lead to an entire week where Bucky simply didn’t have milk in the house, or he’d rush to pay a bill at the last minute, or file his taxes April first because Coulson reminded him.

This was, however, the first time he forgot anything related to Alpine’s wellbeing.

Granted as a cat, Alpine wouldn’t give a damn whether he was neutered or not. Bucky could guess that would be why it was made as less of a priority, and thus more easily forgotten.

Bucky penciled in Alpine’s vet appointment into his calendar, thankfully he had Thursday off, so Alpine probably wouldn’t suspect a thing until Bucky had to take him to the Vet. Alpine would probably cry and scream because as an indoor cat he knew where he was going when he was in his little cat carrier. He would keep voicing his displeasure until Bucky draped his pine tree blanket over the carrier to calm the cat down.

Bucky was plotting how to bribe Alpine into the carrier, stopping by the pet store on his way home to pick up a new tin of Alpine’s favorite treats for after the procedure, and then into his apartment complex’s mail room where he almost bumped into a new resident.

Bucky was startled to see the man. The man looked like a furious greyhound made human. His blond hair was in a frazzled quaff, and he was facing away from Bucky, growing as he was examining the different mailboxes before reaching into one of them.

Bucky stood back listening to the man began grumbling about something.

And for a moment Bucky had assumed the man was talking to him, but then the second man turned and his phone appeared, pressed next to his thick black glasses.

The Winter Soldier had little interest in whether someone wore glasses, other than a weakness he may exploit, but Bucky found that the glasses that highlighted a pair of sparkling blue eyes made him a little weak in the knees.

“I know Carol, I just can’t get my boss to agree on the deadline, so I’ll be busy for the next week,” the new guy grumbled for a bit before he paused to listen to the “Carol” on the other line.

Bucky sidled in behind him and reached for his mailbox, junk mail today, turning his head away from the human greyhound, unfortunately the shorter man kept reaching for a mailbox just out of his casual reach, and the way he was stretching forward, unintentionally going onto his tiptoes made Bucky’s heart flutter as just how cute he looked.

So Bucky began to look more closely at the mail he received.

Still junk mail.

“But enough about work, how’s Chewie?...... When did you change her name to Goose? No, Goose works just fine, I think it’s fitting for her. Oh, good to hear, and Nomi’s been good too, she’s adjusting to the new apartment, but she’s still trying to dart out of the door.”

Bucky once had a reputation as a “Ghost” of the intelligence community, so he slowed down his breathing and quietly crept behind the new neighbor, trying to stay in the man’s blind spot before he slid out of the room, junk mail in tow.

Alpine greeted him with a couple of front paw hops and a headbutt on Bucky’s shin, and Bucky dropped his junk mail enough to pick up his cat for cuddles.

Alpine was content to climb onto his broad shoulders where the cat casually draped himself behind Bucky’s neck so he could smack his human in the face with his tail.

“Good boy,” Bucky told him, knowing that his cat could never suspect an upcoming trip to the vet or Bucky’s growing attraction with the mysterious neighbor.

***

Thursday dawned early, with Bucky doing his morning run, passing the cute blond neighbor who was starting his morning run right as Bucky was finishing his.

The neighbor just simply nodded and inserted his headphones, but Bucky grinned and gave him a solemn nod before entering into the apartment complex.

Bucky supposed the neighbor was still considered a stranger to this new neighbor, and supposed he could try and find out who his new neighbor is. Natasha probably already knew, but that woman knew almost everything.

Alpine was happy his human was home at a time he normally was gone, and followed Bucky into the bathroom, climbing to a shelf above the shower, and watching his human groom under a stream of hot water.

Then Alpine insistently meow for food, but Bucky refrained.

Alpine needed to fast all day before his appointment since he was going to be anesthetized while being neutered and Bucky was not going to take any risks.

After the shower, Alpine began surfing countertops in a cat version of parkour.

Bucky tried to train the cat not to jump on counters with the cat persisting when the cat realized that cardboard sheets lined with double sided sticky tape could simply be knocked off with a well-placed paw swipe.

Alpine kept meowing until Bucky pulled out the big guns, a laser pointer with a catnip mouse for Alpine to stalk and chase, ending when Bucky tossed the catnip mouse and lead the laser pointer to aim at the mouse so Alpine had a physical toy to pounce on and end the hunt in success.

Alpine in his instant victory, proceeded to bite the back of the neck of the toy before rolling onto his back. Bucky watched in fascination as his cat then proceeded to rake with his hind claws on the belly of the toy almost as if he were disemboweling it.

When Alpine was tired of brutally murdering and rolling on top of his catnip mouse the cat draped himself on the floor in a luxurious pose, purring while Bucky began to make himself some pancakes for breakfast.

When Bucky had a short stack with plenty of butter and syrup on the table, Alpine joined him, even when Bucky tried to push his cat on to the floor so he could eat, Alpine persisted, begging for human food that Bucky was never going to give.

Alpine followed Bucky all over the apartment before Bucky distracted Alpine with his fishing rod toy before Alpine got too tired to run from Bucky while Bucky scooped his cat up into the cat carrier where Alpine predictably began to growl and cry before Bucky, with practiced ease of many vet visits, draped the pine tree blanket on top.

Once the cat was packed away, Bucky pulled the carrier strap over his shoulder and began to walk in the direction of the bus stop line to the vet’s office. The route was to walk six blocks where the bus line leading directly to the office would be waiting.

The first block was what many cat owners had referred to as Alpine singing “The song of his people” to Bucky.

The second block was filled with agitated shuffling as Alpine tried to scout out a weakness in his very expensive and secure cat carrier. Bucky held firm and kept walking as if the strap on his shoulder wasn’t tugging at his metal arm in weird angles.

The Third block had Alpine try to throw himself at the floor of the carrier by Bucky and turn himself too peer at Bucky with his huge pleading yellow eyes that normally got Alpine more head scratches, games, or treats, but unfortunately didn’t work on the way to the vet.

The fourth block had Alpine try to scratch at Bucky through the bars impatiently, which unfortunately for Alpine, was ignored and his claws only hit Bucky’s metallic prosthetic. But Bucky just kept walking, having planned for this eventuality, and noting that Alpine was growing slightly more patient in his maturing process.

After the fifth block of futile swipes on his left arm, the Asset rose to the surface and the Winter Soldier could tell that he was being followed.

Alpine protested loudly, only for a moment, but Bucky shushed the cat, and Alpine, sensing his human’s tone, froze inside the carrier, his tail twitching agitatedly.

The Asset discreetly placed his cat behind a dumpster, with a note saying “If found please call this number I’m not abandoned” pinned on the blanket.

Bucky hoped it was simply an idiotic mugger who could be intimidated away with the appropriate glare, but the sensation of spiders crawling up his spine and legs meant his instincts were detecting something much bigger.

He doubled back, leading the tail away from Alpine’s hiding place, a discrete text sent to Natasha.

He caught a glimpse of a familiar face, his instincts exclaiming that it was Hydra, one of his old handlers, and he nervously placed his hand over his concealed gun.

He slowed and deepened his breathing, his heart picked up and the sounds of the street had gone deafening, but he had to disable them, call SHIELD, and then call the vet to reschedule so he could take Alpine home and rain the cat with attention.

While hunting for a new place to live. Alpine might like having some forest to look at if they moved to the middle of nowhere. He’d never know who that neighbor was, but safety was more important than hot blonde dudes.

He jumped when one of the Hydra goons tried to move him to position, much like a herd of wolves trying to herd an unlucky stag away from the herd.

But like a stag, Bucky was strong and not to be trifled with, as he pressed the emergency button he had installed on his phone, and then he dropped it, the SHIELD logo flashing under the cracked screen.

So Barnes decided to spring the trap before they were prepared, and at the very least make sure it ends with them, or get information on who to hunt down.

Clint can watch Alpine while he did that.

He weaved up and down the street a little, almost like he was wandering aimlessly before he ducked into another alleyway, and predictably he heard the goons scramble after him.

He turned and discreetly pulled out his gun, ready to take them down, the bullets were ICER so he could capture them and interrogate them after he removed fake teeth from their mouths and other such slow-acting poisons.

Hydra loved having suicidal goons it appeared.

One of them tried to bull rush him from the side.

He ducked and used his back and hips to create a fulcrum under the goon’s center of gravity and sent the goon flying into the open trash can behind him.

The goon didn’t land inside it gracefully and instead brought the can on top of him, stunning him while his limbs flailed.

Barnes dispatched him with an ice bullet to the jaw, before ducking a bat swung at his head, and Barnes swung low to kick out his legs from under him.

Then he felt something prick the back of his neck and realized the second goon was bait by a third goon who quickly turned on the taser.

Barnes seized as his muscles contracted and he hissed through his clenched teeth, unable to shout or scream.

The current ended, and Barnes went down like a dropped sock puppet. On the ground, the worst place he could be, he rolled, trying to regain his feet, swiping the taser wires away from his neck, and out of sheer reflex, ducked out of the way as the second goon’s bat, which swung downward like a samurai sword and Barnes felt a little bit of asphalt and wood chips from the bat fly towards his face.

Barnes kicked to get more space and he reminded himself that he couldn’t kill these men, he needed the intel and he didn’t kill anymore.

He was not going back to being The Asset, he refused.

The cunning third goon, most likely the leader, pulled out a second taser, this one catching Barnes by the thigh, and he arched involuntarily, his other leg slamming into a brick wall with a click.

He shot the second goon as soon as he regained movement and shot the third goon, both went down when the ICER bullets put them to sleep.

When he looked up, goons four, five, and six filled in, likely a second wave to wear him out, and one of them was carrying a scarily familiar blanket covered carrier.

“Look at what’s in the box fellas, it’s a little kitty,” one of the Hydra goon crooned coldly, “looks like the Winter Soldier’s gone soft, guys.”

The other goons laughed, flanking the Bucky on all sides, separating him from Alpine, as the goon next to Alpine opened the carrier and picked up Alpine, who hissed and shrieked, by the scruff of his neck, the cat desperately swiping at the hands holding him. Bucky saw some blood be drawn by Alpine’s hind claws.

“I think I can make a nice scarf outta all this nice white f--” The goon began, but a thrown knife to the throat was enough to stop him, his body going limp.

Alpine landed daintily ran to safety while the alleyway descended into chaos, the panic button on Bucky’s dropped and cracked phone beeping as Bucky took down every last one of them.

As the last goon collapsed on his own blood, Bucky’s metallic left arm was limp and his right eye was starting to swell as he limped out of the alleyway.

“Al! Alpine, here boy!” Bucky called, but his cat was nowhere in sight, a black van with the SHIELD logo arrived with Natasha and Clint leaping out the side.

“Bucky?” Clint asked, while Natasha and other Agents were combing over the alleyway, while Coulson left the front cabin.

“Agent Barnes, we’re going to need a report, and possibly make a statement,” Coulson reported, as police cruisers approached.

Barnes sighed.

He kept shaking Alpine’s treat tin, and Natasha began looking for the cat while Bucky debriefed.

Natasha returned with an apologetic expression.

The Vet’s office called his cracked cell phone, and Bucky had to tell them that Alpine’s missing. To his relief, the vet tech on the other line was sympathetic and began making calls to make sure Alpine was found. Then made suggestions to increase the chances that Alpine would be found safely.

The official police report simply stated that Bucky was mugged on his way to the vet’s office, and as a result, lost track of his cat. The SHIELD report read something different.

***

The next week was hard.

Bucky quickly posted an image and description of Alpine on a few pet facebook posts, (discretely setting up an account for “Yasha” Burns, Millenial and Cat Dad).

Fliers with Alpine’s picture were posted in one point five-mile radius around the area where Alpine escaped the Hydra goons.

The local animal shelters sadly didn’t find anything but promised to scan for microchips on all the cats who came in just in case.

Bucky had a few false alarms when someone called to report a white cat got hit by a car, and to Bucky’s dark relief, the dead cat was a tabby piebald.

Another cat was found with signs of a rat bite, but that cat was stray female and the local shelter nursed her back to health before she got spayed, vaccinated and adopted.

Coulson asked Agent Barnes to his office on the last day of Barnes’ medical leave (shorter than normal because of his accelerated healing, turns out he fractured a few bones in his foot when his leg slammed into the wall) to calmly report that Hydra has not brought forth any ransom demands, and at this point no news was good news.

Clint and his friend Kate didn’t find anything, and apparently, Clint climbed a tree on a false alarm, and when a man in an apartment pulled his head out to yell at Clint, Clint simply handed him a missing cat flyer.

***

Eventually, seven days after Alpine fled for his life, Bucky was worn and sore but expected to report to work the next day.

Coulson has reassured him for the second time that no news was good news, and the medical wing gave him a clean bill of health, all that left were superficial bruising on his face from the fight.

Clint and Natasha were overseas on a mission, so Bucky was very surprised to find his mysterious attractive neighbor pounding his fist on Bucky’s apartment door.

His neighbor turned, his small face was furious, and Bucky stepped back wondering what did he do?

Then the man’s eyes widened a little in alarm.

“Dude, are you alright? You look like shit.”

Bucky’s knees almost gave out at the sound of that man’s voice, Bucky forgot how deep it sounded, but he held himself up.

“I’m fine,” Bucky grunted, “Can I help you?”

“Is this your cat?”

In an Amazon box, with a grey towel inside, his white head popped out of the top, Alpine greeted his human with his hungry meow, the same one Bucky last heard when Bucky tried to herd his cat away from his pancakes.

“Al! You’re alright,” Bucky didn’t cry, but he was glad to see his cat was unharmed, skinny and dirty, but unharmed.

“Good, we found the stud’s owner.”

“Yes, you’re such a handsome schmuck, aren’t ya,” Bucky pulled Alpine out of the box, and Alpine began to purr in his arms as Bucky unlocked the apartment door to take the cat inside.

“Because we’ve got bigger problems.”

Bucky paused before he opened the door, his flesh arm still coiled around Alpine, and Alpine’s claws sank into his sleeve.

“Problems?” Bucky asked turning to his neighbor.

“We found him last night after my cat dashed out my apartment, and she was receptive,” the neighbor sighed. “We still don’t know if there will be kittens, but I owe my friend Sam a drink, he found them. And if you’re going to let him outside, please get him fixed, New York has enough feral cats as it is.”

Bucky didn’t need to guess at what state Sam found them in. “ Would you like to come inside?”

“I wish I could, but I have to get going, I have to pull another shift at work.” he sighed.

“Okay, uh can I ask your name?”

The neighbor blinked, his glasses highlighted his eyes, blinking in surprise. “It’s Steve, Steve Rogers from 24 C.”

“James Barnes.”

And Bucky’s breath was lost as Steve Rogers walked away to head to work, and Alpine meowed in his arms.

Bucky took his cat inside, and sent a “He’s home!” text message to Clint and Natasha, before notifying Coulson, and making an appointment to the vet.

Natasha sent him a text saying that she’ll drive him to the vet this time.

Bucky spent the rest of the night petting his cat as Alpine probably ate his weight in cat food and treats, breaking Alpine’s diet restrictions, but tonight was special.

Alpine kept purring, and eventually, he let go of his human long enough to curl up on his pine tree blanket, kneading in it like he did as a four-week-old kitten.

“What are we going to do with you?” Bucky asked his cat, and he kept thinking of how tired and resigned Steve looked when he said: “we still don’t know if there will be kittens”.

That was not the look of someone confident that they could afford vet bills.

***

The next time Bucky saw Steve, three weeks later, Bucky was returning home from the Vet’s office with Natasha dropping them off in her little black Corvette.

Alpine was drugged out of his wits and sleeping off the procedure, so he was quiet in the carrier.

Steve looked tired and grim.

“How’s your cat?” Bucky asked after Natasha drove off.

“The vet confirmed it, she’s got a litter on the way. And your cat?” Steve asked.

“Clean bill of health, and sleeping off getting fixed right now,” Bucky lifted Alpine’s carrier to prove his point.

“Good, so it won’t happen again.”

“Nope.”

Steve nodded, “Well, I’ve got to go to work, it was nice seeing you, James.”

“Call me Bucky,” Bucky said as he stepped out of Steve’s way.

“Bucky, then,” Steve said and he left.

Bucky deposited Alpine in the apartment, where Alpine came out of his drugged stupor slowly and walked out with the “Cone of shame” around his neck.

Bucky draped the pine tree blanket on top of Alpine’s cat tree and pulled out his laptop.

When Alpine was asleep on his pine tree blanket, climbing with the coordination of a drunken man, Bucky pulled up google and did some research on cat pregnancies.

And having kittens in a safe and healthy environment looked expensive, pregnant and nursing cats needed more calories and kitten food on top of their normal diet.

Alpine’s paws just twitched in his sleep, the cone of shame concealing his face.

***

As Bucky slept that night, he dreamt of his parents, which wasn’t rare, but Bucky recalled an awkward gruff conversation he had with his father when he was thirteen years old.

His father fidgeted, before giving Bucky the conversation about the difference between men and boys.

Bucky remembered it was because a neighborhood girl two years Bucky’s senior got in the family way, and the adult man responsible ghosted her. The poor girl attempted an abortion while her parents were out because there wasn’t enough money to go around, and the Great Depression was just getting started. She bled to death before they found her.

George Barnes in horror for her family and disgust with her former suitor made it clear his son that the man was just as responsible for babies as the woman was, and that Barnes were no deadbeats.

Tiny little Bucky nodded and promised his father that he’d stay a good Catholic boy and not have sex before marriage, meanwhile keeping his interest in kissing boys a secret.

When Bucky did give up his virginity in secret ten years later, his partner was male, but Bucky still kept his cock wrapped up, his father’s warning still in his mind.

The next morning, before Bucky left to go root out a drug cartel shipment, he passed by his cat as Alpine tried to pry off the cone of shame.

“Well, Al, you don’t have a job, but I’m not about to let you off the hook just because you got some girl cat in trouble… We’re Barnes, and we ain’t deadbeats.”

Al turned his back on his human, but Bucky left his cat alone, Alpine didn’t live in a world with human rules.

But Bucky did, so Bucky did an extra mission and asked Coulson for overtime.

After his next paycheck, Bucky bought Alpine’s cat food and then got a bag of the best brand of kitten food he could get his hands on.

He swung by 24 C with a note labeled “Child Support.”

***

“I’m tearing my hair out trying to figure out how am I going to pay for this, I only waited on getting Nomad spayed because I’d be able to pay for it after I got paid for this commission,” Steve groaned to Sam, who nodded like a sympathetic ear, and not somebody who heard this several times in the past three weeks.

They climbed up the stairs of the apartment complex to reach Steve’s floor.

“Look, like Riley and I keep saying, we’re fine lending you some money for my god-kitten, and you can pay us back when you adopt out the kittens, it’s no big deal,” Sam reassured him.

“Well, you can always adopt one,” Steve began, realizing the monumental task his cat had signed him up for.

Sam shook his head. “We have Redwing, remember? I don’t wanna risk my bird’s life by introducing his natural predator into my home, or put up with Riley’s allergies.”

Steve sighed and nodded. “I’ll figure it out.”

“What about that male cat’s owner? Have you heard from him?”

“A little, not since he got his cat fixed, and I’m not about to demand money from him, after all, that happened.”

Sam shrugged, “Alright, it’s your choice.”

Once they reached Steve’s floor, they passed by a familiar face.

“James?” Steve asked.

“Oh, hey, I just swung by to say ‘hi,’ and thought I could drop off something I thought might be helpful.” Bucky gestured over his shoulder, and Steve saw a bag of cat food sitting on his doorstep.

Sam cleared his throat.

“I’m Sam, and you must be Alpine’s owner?”

“Yeah, thanks for finding him, he’s an indoor cat, so I’m really grateful you found him,” Bucky said, holding his naked right hand, his gloved left hand entering in his pocket in a casual manner.

“Any time,” Sam shook it, then smooth as silk, turned to Steve and said, “Well, I’ve got to go, I’ll call you for coffee later in the week Steve.”

Steve watched Sam’s retreating back, realizing that Sam was bowing out instead of joining Steve in his apartment to play with Nomi.

Granted Nomi had been less playful lately, with being over five weeks pregnant.

Steve sighed and stepped forward, his toe prodding the bag of kitten kibble, and saw in very neat cursive a note saying “Child Support”.

“Is this supposed to be a joke?” Steve demanded.

“No, it’s not,” Bucky began, looking surprised, but then his eyes glinted sharply in a way that caused Steve’s treacherous insides to quake. “We Barnes aren’t deadbeats, Alpine got your cat into trouble, and it’s our responsibility to make sure she’s taken care of.”

A corner of his mind which reminded Steve a little too much like an elderly grandmother, crooned that Bucky was responsible, and wasn’t that just sexy?

Steve didn’t need another reminder that he was getting old, but apparently sensitive responsible men were replacing bad boys in criteria for dating.

Stupid sexy neighbor!

Steve shoved that corner away hard before he said something stupid.

“Well, do you want to come inside and meet my cat at least?”

Like that.

“Sure that sounds sw--I mean that sounds good,” Bucky started before he cleared his throat halfway through, almost like he was trying to be suave back.

But there was no way, Bucky was just blushing from second-hand embarrassment.

Steve was as prickly as a cactus and as smooth as coarse sandpaper.

His first interaction with Tony Stark was proof of that.

For some reason, Tony thought that Steve was hilarious, and hired him for the art commission to put all of his other commissions to shame on the spot, with the commission price that would mean Steve wouldn’t have to worry about eating ramen and Nomi generic cat food for a few months, the commission that Steve was desperate to complete now.

Bucky eagerly followed Steve inside, where Nomi rushed up to greet Steve, before skitting to a halt at seeing Bucky, and bolting inside Steve’s open bedroom, and Steve could see that Nomi’s black tortoiseshell markings did nothing to hide the baby bulk she started developing for the past few weeks. If anything, the normally adorable orange deep v marking on her chest, and orange “cape like” patch on her back only seemed to draw the eye to the developing kittens.

“She does that, she’ll be out in a few minutes, coffee?” Steve offered, guiding Barnes to the living room dash kitchen.

Bucky took a seat by the countertop, and Steve began brewing decaf coffee in his french press.

Barnes began looking around, and his eyes fell on the picture frame mounted on the wall, where Steve’s first comic book cover.

In all, it’s self-published amateur glory before he failed to get the Nomad series off the ground and wound up doing graphic design instead.

“Nomi?” Bucky asked pointing at the picture frame.

“Yeah, I thought she was a boy when I got her so I named her after a character I made up shortly before I found her. I think her mom was a barn cat, so she’s a little skittish around strangers, but warms up quickly.”

Bucky was halfway through his cup of coffee when Steve felt something brush up against his foot.

“Hey there, Nomi,” Steve cooed and Nomi made a short meow before she continued to brush up against Steve, and then began to sniff Bucky’s legs gingerly.

Steve noticed Bucky held still so not to startle her.

Nomi padded up to Bucky and then jumped up on to his lap.

Steve raised his eyebrow, that’s really bold of her. It took her weeks to warm up to Sam, her second favorite person.

Bucky gently began petting her.

“Hello pretty girl, thanks for finding my cat for me,” Bucky said to her softly. Nomi arched her back into it before she twinged and straightened her back out. She had been doing this since the kittens had gotten bigger.

“She seems to really like you,” Steve observed.

“She’s probably smelling Alpine on me, so she knows I smell like a happy cat?” Bucky guessed.

That might be it.

“So, thanks for helping me by grabbing some cat food,” Steve began, and Bucky looked up, his eyes were a rich blue. The unwanted corner of his mind noted that fact pretty passionately.

“Oh, uh, no problem,” Bucky muttered, his gloved hand brushing the hair from behind his head. Steve felt the impulse to lean in and kiss him, but refrained, because Bucky was practically a stranger.

That didn’t stop Steve’s heart from racing or his mind exclaiming “don’t fuck this up, dontfuckthisup…”

“I, uh, did I thank you for the kitten food?”

Bucky blinked, “you did, and again it was my pleasure.”

“Right,” damn it, now Steve had to think of something else to talk about, sports, weather, not politics, anything….

“It’s fine, I’ve got memory problems too, but if you want, I’d like to discuss this more over Coffee?” Bucky offered nervously. “I’d like to help with the kittens, since their half my fault too?”

Maybe Bucky isn’t suffering from second-hand embarrassment after all?

“Yeah, that sounds great, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Well, I need to head back to Alpine,” Bucky shrugged, Nomi deciding to take advantage of Steve’s distraction, jumped up on the table and began to groom her face.

“So, does Tuesday work? For coffee? I have an early appointment so I’d be free about eleven?” Steve blurted out.

Bucky blinked and then grinned. “Eleven on Tuesday works perfectly for me.”

“Great, I’ll see you then.”

Bucky left the apartment with little fanfare, and Steve stood at the table, two cups of coffee sitting on the table while his cat proceeded to groom a spot on her back for an entire space of fourteen seconds before Steve pulled out his phone to text Sam.

Steve: Sam, I need some help!

Sam: On a scale of one to ten, ten beings I need help hiding a body, what kind of help are you asking for?

Steve: I have a date with my hot neighbor, the one whose cat knocked up Nomi

Sam: An eleven then, what time?

Steve: Tuesday at eleven

Sam: Hang tight, Riley and I will be right over.

Meanwhile, while Sam and Riley were going over Steve’s wardrobe, Steve would never know that in a nearby apartment, his neighbor was having a frantic texting conversation with two of his coworkers as well.

Steve didn’t know that Natasha Romanoff sent a “Code Purple” to two other Coworkers, and Bucky Barnes was introduced to Sharon Carter and Maria Hill. Steve didn’t know that Maria Hill did a background check on Steve on her way over to Bucky’s apartment.

While Bucky was trying to decide on an outfit, Alpine was soaking up the attention lavished upon him by the off duty Deputy Director of SHIELD and their infamous Agent 13, while the Black Widow awaited her turn, or that Hawkeye was giving the Winter Soldier number ratings for outfit ensembles.

Or that Tuesday came, and Steve left his meeting with Stark almost late because Tony approved of Steve’s design, wanted to brainstorm new ideas for another project, and Steve walked out with another commission and a bonus check, and swung by the apartment building to drop off his bag and meet up with his neighbor outside of his apartment.

Bucky was waiting outside the building, his hair pulled back into a bun at the base of his neck, a brown leather jacket and a burgundy button up, and Steve tried not to look too closely at the dark skin-tight jeans he was wearing. And Steve had to fight down a dirty fantasy involving him and those naked muscled thighs around his waist.

Suddenly Steve was glad he chose his royal blue button up to his meeting.

“Hey,” Steve called out, and Bucky turned and grinned at him.

“Hey yourself, you look great,” Bucky said, and Steve couldn’t predict how much his heart would flutter.

What Steve could have predicted was that going out for coffee would have been a fun date, where they talked about lots of things.

Bucky didn’t say much about his job, only that he traveled a lot for work, and his schedule was often unpredictable, but exciting and rewarding.

Steve also learned a lot about young kitten care when Bucky told Steve about the business trip where Bucky found Alpine after getting some drinks with his new coworkers on his first business trip. Or how Bucky fostered Alpine before he adopted him.

That made Steve feel a little better about the unborn kittens, especially as Bucky offered to help.

The unhelpful matchmaking corner of his brain kept supplying oh so not-so-useful commentary about how Bucky was practically marriage material.

Coffee evolved into lunch, then Bucky got a call about a work emergency and ducked out early. But not before Bucky paid for his half of the bill, and Steve was relieved that his bonus--thanks Tony Stark--covered his half of the bill and went home to design another logo for Stark and a menu for a local restaurant. Nomi slept on her cat bed next to his desk.

“Well girl,” Steve observed aloud after he realized his good mood increased his productivity when he stopped for a dinner a few hours after he got home, “If Alpine’s is as good as his owner, then you are a lucky cat.”

Nomi slept on.

Steve kept seeing Bucky several more times when his mysterious job permitted him some spare time, ending every payday with a fresh bag of kitten food, which helped Steve a lot.

Two weeks into dating Bucky, Steve got to swing by Bucky’s apartment and got to meet Alpine in normal circumstances, Alpine was a sweet cat. Steve had a suspicion what some of the kittens might be like after they were born.

For example Alpine loved running up to people when they came in or hiding in Bucky’s closet when surprised by any unexpected loud noise, and what Bucky called “Countertop surfing”.

Only idiots would miss how much Bucky loved Alpine, and how much that affection was returned.

During Nomi’s ninth week, when the cat was at full term, Bucky started to bring by examples of nesting materials for the kittens, including an old fleece blanket with pine trees printed all over it.

Nomi got more clingy and spent all her time staying in the same room as Steve and Bucky, or ducking in and out of his closet, but she seemed to really like the smell of the old fleece blanket. The Internet said that it meant she was close to giving birth, and that her behavior was normal for the pre-labor stage.

“This blanket is just an example, but it’s the blanket I used to swaddle Alpine until he was about five weeks old.”

“Swaddle? That’s a thing people do with kittens?” Steve asked in bemusement. Of course, there were times Bucky seemed to treat Alpine exactly like the cat was his human child.

“Yeah, it only works for orphaned kittens because their mother often provides them with the warmth they need, and Alpine needed the extra warmth when he was really small or really anxious about something, Clint used to call him a ‘purrito’” Bucky shrugged, “He loved it when he was really small and not fully mobile.”

Steve connected a few dots about Alpine’s blanket.

“Is that your coworker’s spare blanket that you borrowed when you found Al?”

“Yeah,” Buch shifted a little embarrassedly.

“That’s so sweet,” Steve grinned and reached down to pet Nomi, only to have his hand meet empty air.

Then he looked up and noticed that Alpine’s kitten blanket was gone.

“Nomi?” Steve asked, and Bucky glanced under the table and shook his head when he made eye contact with Steve.

Then Steve remembered the other spot she would probably head to.

Steve’s closet.

Nomi was a trooper, in a corner of the closet, she made a nest out of Steve’s dirty laundry, Bucky’s black leather jacket--the one with the straps that Steve might or might have not doodled Bucky in the margins in his scratch paper--and the newest addition lining the nest, Alpine’s blanket.

Nomi was urgently licking a tiny new kitten covered in its’ amniotic sac, and Steve knew exactly what to do.

“Buck, in my bathroom there is a box labeled ‘cat first aid’, it’s under the sink, and after you grab it, there are some old towels in the linen closet,” Steve ordered, and he noticed Bucky seemed to snap into action and ran out with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine.

“Nomi, can I see your baby?” Steve asked gently as he crouched down to her level.

The cat didn’t bite him as he gently picked up the struggling kitten, and noticed that it wasn’t breathing on its own yet, so he began to rub it’s chest and wiping stuff of its face.

Bucky appeared at his shoulder, the towel and a small bulb syringe, which Steve immediately used to clear the kitten’s airway and rubbed the kitten dry.

Nomi meowed in concern before the kitten gave a loud series of squeaks.

Bucky gently held his hand out, and Steve passed the kitten over to him, as he examined the kitten with the eye of someone who fostered a kitten in the past. He pronounced the kitten a girl, and Steve noticed she was a calico, the perfect blend of Nomi and Alpine.

The kitten started nuzzling her mother’s orange V-shaped marking and started rooting around for one of the pink nipples.

Nomi purred very loudly until the next contraction, and Bucky began cleaning the next kitten when it was born, a little black male kitten.

In the end, Nomi had six kittens, all squeaking and sleeping, the calico firstborn, the full black second born, two orange tabbies of each sex, a smoky grey boy tabby, and a small snowy white girl who looked exactly like Alpine.

The cat grandfathers collapsed in exhaustion on the bedroom carpet outside of the closet, beaming into the cracked open door with pride, all the kittens were born healthy, hungry, and safe.

“I should probably go take care of Alpine now,” Bucky said, snapping a quick picture of the litter and both of them started sending a mass text message announcing the birth of the kittens.

Sam sent a series of firework emojis and Bucky softly laughed at something on his phone.

“My coworkers Natasha and Sharon call dibs on the black and white kittens respectively,” Bucky laughed.

“Well that’s two homes for two out of the six kittens,” Steve sighed happily, which was a bit of relief.

“We make a pretty good team,” Bucky observed, and Steve leaned into him, feeling his warm chest against Steve’s shoulder.

“We do,” Steve nodded and Bucky pulled Steve close for another hug, and a quick peck on the cheek.

Steve’s heart fluttered.

“Hey, I was thinking,” Steve began.

“Yeah?”

“You said we make a good team, do you want, to make it something a little more serious?” Steve continued.

“Like as boyfriends?”Bucky blushed and then grinned. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Great!” Steve said, then Bucky pulled Steve in tight, and Steve faintly registered Bucky’s prosthetic arm before he tilted his head up, and felt Bucky’s soft dry lips on his own, and Steve gently pulled his face in further to kiss Bucky back before Bucky’s work phone buzzed.

“I’ve got to go,” Bucky sighed, “But I’ll call you later.”

“Have a good day at work.” Steve nodded and went inside to make sure Nomi had all she needed for her kittens.

Epilogue:

Bucky’s phone rang for a second time, this time instead of a text saying he needed to be ready for extraction, it was a call from Coulson himself, meaning something serious is going on.

“Barnes,” He said as he answered his phone.

“Barnes, we have a situation, we have some Asgardians arriving here in the hunt for a dangerous kind of alien.”

“And what kind would that be sir?”

“Ever heard of a Flerkin?”

***

Meanwhile, in a closet in a nearby apartment, Nomi looked over her litter of kittens, and opened her mouth for a yawn, stretching her tentacles out before pulling them back in and watching her young copy her with pride.

Her precious pet human Steve--Or as she secretly liked to call him Purrit--was curled up in the closet after she badgered him out of his bed and into her nest. She had six newborns and was not about to let herself be overwhelmed when help was snoozing feet from the closet door.

She adopted Steve shortly after she landed on to the earth in a freak accident. She was barely a kit when she was abducted from her mother and littermates and was to be used as a weapon on to some smuggler’s ship. In a stroke of luck and stupidity, the smugglers crashed after they underestimated earth’s atmospheric conditions. She survived the rubble, ate her captors, and wandered around until Steve stumbled across her.

She was hiding in the ruins of the building the ship had crashed in, and Steve in his ever true goodness, fed her some chicken he had packed away in a bag. He took her home and started calling her Nomad--a title she felt was most fitting for her life up to this point--all while providing the perfect amount of food, clean litter boxes, and affection. In return, she groomed him with her tongue, provided him with body heat when he was cold, and when she could smell he was low in positive neurotransmitters, stimulated his body’s production by purring and cuddling.

And now Steve provided her with a home and was helping to plan the future for her kittens after helping her deliver them. It was her first litter and when the first one struggled to breathe she honestly felt ready to panic. It also pleased her that her pet Steve selected a knowledgeable mate in Alpine’s pet human Bucky.

Steve grunted in his sleep, and one of her kittens fussed and rolled over away from his littermates, so she placed the kitten on a warm spot next to Steve’s heart. Steve subconsciously cradled the grey tabby kitten in his warm arms and the kitten fell back asleep.

Nomi purred and slowly blinked in satisfaction. She was pleased to find a safe place to live, and she would do anything to ensure her litter got the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the "purrito" is a thing I found in my research for taking care of orphaned kittens.


End file.
